


Apprehended

by ProdigalEzplorer (Asguardian)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asguardian/pseuds/ProdigalEzplorer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crushing defeat over Demacia ends up with Garen as Darius' personal prisoner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a massive triumph over Demacia. Almost all of their soldiers had died in the battle, with few exceptions. However, the one that interested Darius most was the general, Garen Crownguard, at the front of the group kneeling in the open room.

Obvious by the continued tensity in his muscles, Garen would have jumped up and tried to kill everyone keeping him there. The only thing that probably kept him kneeling was the chain collar attached to the shackles at his feet. Maybe the swords pointed at his throat deterred him a little as well.

“Send them all to Draven, let him mow them down for his show,” Swain waved his hand at the group with a laugh.

Draven strode up to be beside Darius. “Oh brother, you leave for battle and return with the most fantastic of gifts.”

Darius turned to him with a smile. “It's to make up for all the times I failed to get you any gifts as a child. But, can I have just one for myself?”

Draven's right eyebrow cocked in question, a sly smile on his face.

“The general, Garen,” He nodded his head to the man they had just slammed with the butt of a spear to get to move. “He has such spirit, you should have seen him on the battlefield. We only captured him after he dived to save a comrade, mowing down five Noxians in a sweep of his sword, before receiving a blow to the back of the head just after. He collapsed, and I would have assumed him dead, but when we rounded up the leftovers, he was still breathing.”

“Darius, I would love to see your work,” Draven said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, before calling over a fellow guard. “The one at the front, with the brown hair. Take him to my brother's quarters instead of my gallows.”

The man nodded and hurried to make it so.

 

There were hooks all over Darius' quarters. It was fairly normal in Noxian society to keep prisoners as pets. Darius had never before taken part, but he knew this was a special case. Garen was chained by the neck collar to a hook near his bed. All the chains were still linked together, keeping him in a sitting position, just his head flat against the wall. His clothes had been changed, most likely at Draven's behest, a blue wrap around his waist and nothing more.

His expression was painted in anger. Garen did not speak as Darius entered, nor did he move in any way that betrayed any emotion. Darius sat on the ground across from him.

“Do you know who I am?”

Garen did not respond, his lip twitching in a suppressed snarl.

“You will answer any direct question I ask of you, Garen Crownguard, or I will publicly parade you around as a dog on a leash. I know you have more pride than to allow that.”

“Just fucking kill me and be done with it, Noxian trash.”

Darius reached forward to put his hand on Garen's chin. “Just answer questions when you are asked. Do you know who I am?” He squeezed a bit.

“Darius, a Noxian general.”

“Wonderful. Glad to see you can learn.”

Garen growled in response.

“Don't act like a dog or I will treat you as such,” Darius stood and turned to his desk.

“Why keep me alive? Why kill my men and leave me to live? If you want to make an example of someone, just kill me.”

“And what? Trade your men for the Noxians Demacia has? As if we care. A captured soldier is as good as dead to us.”

Though unable to drop his head, Garen's head tilted downward ever so slightly. His eyes downcast.

“Oh, don't let it get you down,” Darius said with a laugh. “You'll get to join your squad soon enough.”

Garen tore forward on his bonds at that, the collar at his neck choking him and forcing him to stop. His hands were shaking in rage though. He continued to struggle to separate his hands, the cuffs there obviously chaffing and bruising already.

“Try to calm down, Garen. I really don't like my toys broken.”

Garen was still now, very still. Finally, there was fear on his face.

 

Darius ended up leaving the room for a some hours and when he returned, he could tell Garen had fallen asleep. He jerked when the door open, again pulling a bit too hard on the collar and ended up coughing.

“Would you rather sleep lying down, Garen?”

Garen had found his anger again. “You want to fuck me, Darius? Why don't you just get it over with and kill me. I won't make a good pet.”

Darius came over to him, and put a hand on Garen's cheek now. “No, I think you'll make the best pet ever. You're a soldier through and through. You're fully trainable.”

“Let me loose. Fight me.”

“You'd lose,” Darius said, fingering the collar at his neck.

“You think you can take me, prove it.”

Darius undid the hook at his neck, then grabbed the links that held his wrists just inches away from his ankles. He jerked hard, lifting Garen and throwing him on to the bed. Garen slammed on the bed and bounced, trying to roll himself into a defensive position. Darius grabbed him by the back of the chains at his collar and jerked hard. Garen choked and gagged while Darius clicked his collar to a hook from the bed. He hooked another chain to the middle of the ones that kept his hands and feet together. Garen was on his side, unable to adjust really, but laying down.

“There, now you can lay down. Get some rest.”

Darius crawled in the bed beside him and Garen tensed through his whole body.

“Goodnight, Garen.”

 

He never laid a hand on Garen unless he had to get his attention or force him to drink and eat. Darius even pulled him into the bathroom and showered him one day. Garen stopped speaking at all, the edge to his body ever present.

After a week of the silent treatment, Garen spoke one night chained to the wall.

“Let's fuck, Darius. That's what you want... Come on then,” His voice trailed away.

Darius put a finger at the crux where his back ran into his ass, the spot just above the wrap. Garen tensed.

“But you are still afraid,” Darius whispered, leaning forward to his ear. “I'm not going to take you unwillingly.”

Garen pulled harder on his chains than ever before, blood pooling around the cuffs. “Kill me, Darius. Either let me loose so I can kill you, or just kill me,” He jerked on the collar, coughing a moment, then did it again.

Darius grabbed him by the neck and held him down.

“Hurt yourself again and I'll see to it that you watch every man of your group get slaughtered by Draven. Calm down.”

He very slowly let up and Garen pushed forward with all his might in an attempt to bite Darius. Gasping and choking, blood now pooling on that wound at his neck.

Darius pulled him up, then hit him in the carotid, his body going limp from the blow.

 

When he awoke he was on all fours and outside, chained in place. It was a secluded room space that unlikely anyone else could tell he was in from the outside. And though he had never seen it before, it was the arena and Draven was on stage in all his splendor announcing the sport for the day.

Darius stood near enough to Garen to watch his reaction, but not close enough to make his presence known.

Garen's eyes never left the field. His men were paraded out, forced to run and mowed down with extreme prejudice. Draven was coated in blood, head to toe, laughing at his show. Garen's body trembled with the strain. When he began to heave in dry sobs, Darius unhooked him and dragged him back to his quarters.

 

In the room, he hooked Garen to the wall so he could stand, legs and arms spread apart.

“I have good news for you, Garen. Jarvan is rallying soldiers together to rescue you and your men. We have sent them the heads of your comrades to show the likelihood of success for their mission. Do you think he will still come for just you?”

“No,” Garen answered flatly.

“Why not? You came for him.”

“Hah. Jarvan is both a friend of mine and the prince of Demacia. Our roles are not equal.”

Darius put a hand on his shoulder. “You have by far the better role, you're right.”

Garen closed his eyes.

“You've kept me here as a toy. When do you plan to use me as such?”

“Oh?” Darius smiled, he slid a hand down his chest and slid it behind the wrap, gently touching his penis. Garen did not flinch nor open his eyes. When he wrapped his fingers around him, stroking gently, Garen did not react. “Not tonight, then.”

Garen's eyes flew open, glaring, jerking forward on the chains, screaming. “Just kill me. Just finish it,” Eventually it wasn't any words at all, just anguished cries. Darius left him, retrieving something that would make him calm, soothe his wounds.

When he entered again, Garen was bleeding profusely at the wrists and around his neck, but he'd stopped struggling. He looked up to Darius with the eyes of a broken man, and Darius smiled. Darius strode over, kissing him lightly, pleased that Garen did not draw back. The first thing he unhooked was Garen's neck, wiping the salve across the open wounds. Garen's eyes quirked as if it hurt, but nothing audible escaped his throat.

“I apologize that the collar has to go back on, Garen. I don't trust you.”

Garen laughed at this through his nose, a snort sort of sound. Another smile tugged at Darius' lips. He put the collar on looser now, hooking it back into place. As he undid the chain at Garen's left arm, Garen did not move, again the salve was rubbed into the wound. But at his right, Garen did swing, almost catching Darius off guard. Darius caught the swing, twisting his arm in a way that surely hurt. He opened his mouth, as if to make a sound of pain, but nothing came out.

“I'm almost impressed, Crownguard,” But he wiped salve on this wrist too, and chained him back up. “Care to sleep on your feet tonight?”

Garen, still spread open against the wall, looked up at him, and gave him a sarcastic smile, nodding.

“Sleep well, Garen,” Darius replied, moving to his bed, laying down. He drifted to sleep.

 

But he wasn't asleep all that long before he heard Garen at the it again, tugging hard on the chains. Darius, upset to be woken up, grabbed the bottle he'd been given and sat up from the bed. Garen stopped immediately.

“No, too late to pretend, Garen. You've likely wasted all the effort I've put into keeping those from scarring. So, it's time to make sure you can't do it again,” He gripped Garen's chin, forcing his head back as far as the collar allowed. He popped the medicine open and forced it into Garen's mouth. Garen tried to fight, but the awkward position didn't allow it. When he tried to thrash, Darius pressed a knee between his legs, making him gasp. It was enough, the bottle emptying in his throat, Garen gagging on the liquid.

He was coughing hard, tugging, trying to make himself throw up.

“Hah, it won't matter soon,” Darius whispered, thumbing off some of the purple from his chin. Garen's breathing was fast, his eyes wild, but Darius could almost tell you the exact moment it took effect. He slunk in the bonds, eyes losing their focus. “Much better. Now rest, Garen. It's a big day tomorrow. Jarvan is coming.”

Darius watched him struggle to process this in his foggy mind, but could not. He went limp, falling asleep, so Darius moved him to lay on his back in the bed, wrists chained above him, neck on the hook as before. His legs he hooked to the edges of the bed together, leaving enough space for Darius to be in the bed as well. Laying next to the sleeping Demacian, Darius smiled. A handsome conquest, indeed.

 

When Darius awoke, he found Garen was already awake, staring at the ceiling in silence. He slid his eyes to Darius when he noticed the shift in his body, then looked away.

“Good morning, Garen,” Darius whispered. Garen frowned at this but did not reply.

“Jarvan wants to make a trade. He knows his men are dead, but he wants to offer all the rest of our captured soldiers for you. Do you know what we're going to say?”

He furled his brow but did not reply.

“Do you know what we're going to say, Garen? I want to hear your guess.”

His jaw clenched, but he still did not reply.

Darius gripped his jaw, turning him to look at him. “We're going to say no. And I'm going to ensure it that you are in a place Jarvan can see when we say no. I can only hope the entourage he brought will want to fight then and there. I'd love to kill him in front of you.”

Garen's was shaking in rage, whatever he wanted to say silent in his throat.

“You'll only be wearing this, as well,” Darius trailed a finger down his torso, happy that Garen's breath hitched in his anger. “Do you think Jarvan will like it?”

“I pray he sticks his lance through your throat.”

“There we go, there's what I want,” Darius whispered, undoing the tie at his waist. “I could just let you go out like this, but it is quite cold out. I do have some sympathy,” He was smiling wide at this.

Garen sneered.

“Ah well, time for them to clean you up. You could use a shave after all,” Darius chuckled and left. A while later a multitude of people came in to pretty him up. There was no way he could have fought the men who held him down, people scrubbing him clean and shaving his face, trimming his hair. A fresh scarf was wrapped around his waist, this one with the Demacian emblem prominently on it. Once they finished, they drug him down the hall, fresh chains clicked onto his wrists; these were wider, and they were kept in front of him. The collar the pulled out was blue though, and suitable for a dog, a small tag on it. Garen tried to throw his head away from it, but there was little he could do. Several hands grabbed his face and jaw, holding him still as it was hooked in place. Another vile of strange liquid was pressed to his lips, making his movement slower, more languid. Then a gag was wrapped around his mouth, completing his look.

The cold air was jarring, especially with only the scarf at his hips and nothing else protecting him underneath. Luckily it wasn't windy.

He was put on a horse, wrists clipped to the saddle, a soldier behind him, and rode out to where they were meeting Jarvan. Garen felt panic well up in him, head aching from the abuse and whatever he'd been given. This was an awful lot of soldiers to discuss trading him. The soldier had his arms around him or he would have tried to throw himself from the horse. Nothing for that now.

Jarvan spotted him immediately and Garen could see the change in his stance even at a distance. His whole body tensed, jaw stiffening at this; Jarvan's rage was a terrifying thing indeed.

“So, Jarvan. What's your offer?” Darius was at the front, calling out to the Demacian prince.

“Your men for Garen,” Jarvan answered, gesturing to the caravan behind him.

“And if we refuse?”

“Consider it your last act in this life.”

“Big words for a prince surrounded by a few men.”

“Do you accept or not?” Jarvan asked, adjusting himself on his horse, spear in hand.

“Of course not,” Darius laughed, every Noxian soldier behind him joining in.

A flaming arrow hit the caravan behind Jarvan and suddenly the place was being swarmed over in Demacian soldiers. The Noxians began to fight, but the soldier with Garen in tow, simply turned from the battle and began to hustle from the scene.

Garen would not learn the outcome for days to come, for when he was returned to Noxus, he was deposited in a cell and told nothing. At least the cuffs and collar came off, but the darkness and the silence was worse than that.

What had become of Jarvan?

 

He really didn't know how long had passed, sitting in the dark cell for a very long time. From what little light did filter through, he could see the marks at his wrists were healing. They'd scar for sure, too much damage done at this point. Finally, a door creaked and Garen did his best to pretend to be disinterested; no one spoke to him when the pushed food through after all.

It wasn't the usual guards, but Darius. Garen could tell he'd gained some new scars from whatever the result of the altercation had been, but he was still smiling.

“Want to know the outcome?”

Garen sat in silence, legs crossed, the scarf still covering him.

“I thought being alone for two weeks might loosen your tongue. Was I incorrect?”

“Either tell me or don't,” Hearing his voice, so disused for so long hurt his ears. He tried to cover his surprise.

An eyebrow quirked up on Darius' face, “Demacia declared war, officially. It's been fun fighting them. They really need you. You're a far better general than the men that share your role.”

He breathed out, the only detail he wanted having been left out; intentionally he was sure.

“Do you want to know what happened to Jarvan?”

Garen knew he'd sold himself out, body reacting to hearing his name. He desperately wanted to know what had happened to Jarvan.

Darius laughed, “What do I get for telling you?”

“I have nothing to offer, Darius.”

“Behave like a proper pet. Let me fuck you. Enjoy it. Then I'll let you see Jarvan, just like you want.”

He was standing, “What?”

“Only one way to confirm what I've said,” Darius tossed a pair of cuffs through the bars; they clinked at Garen's feet. He picked them up and walked forward with them, pushing his arms through the bars to Darius. Darius accepted the cuffs back and chained him there, effectively making it to where he couldn't move from his spot. If he were to fight, it would only be his legs, and it would be difficult to kick from behind.

Undoing the door, Darius stepped inside and behind Garen, running a hand down his ass. A long breath escaped Garen, something between anticipation and resignation.

“I'd love to let you work out again. For you to lose all your muscle would be unfortunate.”

Garen kept his eyes locked straight forward and did what he could to think of other things. He felt the scarf pushed aside, both hands on his ass cheeks now, spreading them open. There was a snap of something, the sound of liquid being squeezed from a container, then a finger slid across his anus.

When that finger slipped inside, Garen quirked forward unintentionally, biting his lip to keep from making any noise. Darius' other hand slid under the front of his scarf and began stroking him slowly.

Unfortunately enough, Garen was hardening to the touch at his cock and gentle rub against his prostate. Flushed and angered, he kept himself silent, though the second finger being added made him want to moan.

“Let me hear your voice.”

“No,” Garen ground out, that second finger stroking him so carefully.

“Let me hear your voice and I'll tell you what happened after you were escorted from the field.”

He held out, Darius' thumb crossing over his tip, pressing. Soon, he was getting finger fucked, a groan escaping his lips despite himself.

“He brought so many soldiers with him, Garen. You would have think they would have been competent enough to protect him...” He trailed off, continuing to thrust harder with his fingers.

“Ahn-” Garen choked out, head hitting the bars as he leaned forward.

“We captured him. He took the silence of his cell so much worse than you. Jarvan howled and shouted, while you sat quietly and accepted your fate. Is that because you'd already been here longer? Or is it because Jarvan is an idiot?”

His orgasm was fast approaching, disgusted with himself for getting off to Darius' touches.

“Just come, Garen,” And Garen did, a grunt tearing from his throat.

As he slumped in his post-orgasm, Darius clicked a new collar around his throat. Guards had come now, passing him a new scarf that he traded for the one he'd ejaculated on. It was the soldiers that re-chained him, wrists to a long cord at his ankles.

“Let's see if we can get him to calm down when he sees you.”

Garen marched as they shoved him forward, his legs feeling like lead, heart heavy and sick.

 

It was a long walk, longer than he would have expected. In his mind he couldn't help but wonder just how big this prison was. Then he heard him.

Jarvan was screaming, who knew exactly what he was saying, but it was his voice. He heard Darius' laugh as Garen straightened suddenly, wanting to charge forward.

Stopping adruptly, the entourage turned and Garen saw Jarvan, bloodied, hair matted to his forehead, growling at the guard closest. That ceased almost immediately when he noticed who was in this new group, the soldiers separating to make Garen more apparent.

“Garen!” Jarvan shouted, leaping up to the bars, gripping them in desperation. His mouth opened as if he would ask questions, but he snapped it shut, looking to Darius in loathing. Garen closed his eyes slowly.

“What do I do to get him out of here?”

“Renounce Demacia.”

“No!” Jarvan screamed, shaking the bars.

“How can I guarantee anything you say?”

“We make promises in blood here.”

Turning to face Darius, Garen straightened to his full height. “Then let's make this deal, Darius.”

Pulling a short knife from the guard to his right, Darius sliced his hand. “I guarantee Jarvan will be removed from this cell.”

“Don't do it Garen, this piece of shit isn't worth-”

“And sent to Demacia,” Garen angrily added, keeping his hands away from the blade.

“And to let him go back to the trash he came from.”

Holding his hand out, Garen winced as the blade slashed a shallow mark. Darius clenched his hands shaking once. “Now for your half,” He did not let go.

“I, Garen Crownguard, renounce Demacia and any ties to its state.”

The grip was immediately rescinded, the soldiers grabbing Garen and dragging him away. He struggled because he couldn't help himself, reaching for Jarvan; if for just one more touch...

“Take Jarvan from his prison. Throw him at the border of Noxus and set him free. If he lives to make it home, good for him.”

“Garen! No, I won't honor it! Garen-” Jarvan's voice cut out, someone having struck him.

“Jarvan!” No one was polite enough to grant him unconsciousness.

 

Back in Darius' room, Garen sat on the bed, hands still chained, but waiting. The collar was still at his neck, sash still in place, but he did not attempt to move.

When Darius swept in, Garen looked to him.

“Welcome to Noxus.”

Squaring his jaw, Garen said nothing.

“Be like this. Proud, defiant, clinging to your last shreds of dignity. Always,” Darius leaned down and kissed him. His lips were met with Garen's still ones, no motion from Garen to show he would reply.

With a chuckle, Darius didn't complain, pushing Garen down into the bed. He gripped Garen's wrists and slid the hook at the top of the bed through the chains. Garen spread his legs, snarling at Darius, tilting his head in defiance.

Snatching the lube from the drawer, Darius coated himself quickly, stroking his dick as he sat over Garen. “You want me that bad, eh?” He flipped the sash out of his way.

“Fuck you,” Garen shook his head.

“You should really just let yourself enjoy this,” And with that, he moved back between his legs positioning himself at Garen's entrance. Not asking if he was ready, he pressed inside, all the way to the hilt.

Garen screamed.

“Relax.”

He tried, he really tried; Darius took a tentative thrust. It hurt far less than the initial motion, a sigh escaping his lips.

“There we go,” With another slow thrust, Darius began his pace. Wrapping his hand around Garen's cock he began to stroke and squeeze, getting Garen hard as he continued. Finally, Garen's noises of discomfort changed slightly, firm dick in Darius' hand. At this, Darius smiled, pumping him steadily as he quickened.

Inadvertently, Garen bucked into Darius' hand and it was all the invitation Darius needed. Stroking and thrusting, Darius slammed into Garen, giving him the full brunt of his force. Below him, Garen was moaning and tugging at his bonds, but in a less crazed fashion than when he had tried to escape them.

Garen came first, gasping and moaning, ejaculating across his chest and Darius' hand. Deep inside, Darius came, holding himself as he let every wave of his orgasm pass. Sliding out slowly, he slid a finger inside, bribing some of the slickness out.

Putting it to Garen's mouth, he wiped the cum and lubricant across his lips. “Lick it.”

Opening his mouth, Garen licked his lips clean followed by the finger still nearby. Darius smiled.

“Tomorrow, we mark you permanently for Noxus. It's going to be so fun taming you.”

Looking away, Garen said nothing in reply; there was no point. He let his eyes drift in the direction of Demacia, let out a short sigh, and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

“Wake up, Garen.”

Eyes drifting open, Garen turned his neck to the source of the sound, Darius dressing beside the bed. “Try to work on waking up the first time I call your name, understand?”

He rolled his eyes, but nodded.

“Don't do that again. And always answer me verbally.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Snorting in laughter, Darius grabbed his chin and jerked him up into a kiss. “I have you for that now.”

Garen wanted nothing more than to punch him, to kill him for all that he'd already done, but he couldn't. His hands were bound after all. Still he trembled with the effort, really fantasizing about the thought as Darius continued to press their lips together.

“So much emotion you can do nothing about. You'll learn to channel it appropriately with time.”

“You're a piece of shit. Fucking trash that-”

Darius smashed across his face with his fist, leaving Garen reeling. “Try to control your mouth. I'll reward you if you're good, but keep acting like that and I won't always be so nice.”

A moment or two passed while Garen tried to blink away how dizzy he was. Adrenaline was thrumming in his veins, making him want so badly to just beat Darius to a pulp.

“Open your mouth.”

“Why?”

“Open your mouth, now.”

Finally, his vision was clearing again, so he looked up to see Darius holding yet another vile in his hands.

He was so tired of being drugged, but he opened his mouth and once more wondered _who even made all of these drugs in Noxus_? All of it tasted like shit.

“Let's get going before it sets in,” Darius tugged at the chains of his hands, so Garen stood. Completely naked from the night before and sticky between his ass-cheeks, he couldn't say he really wanted to go anywhere. But already his stomach was churning from whatever he'd been given.

They didn't have far to go; two doors down from Darius' chambers was a dark room with for all Garen could tell, was just a table at about knee level.

“Lay down on your stomach.”

It was awkward, but he did as told. Somewhere in here though, whatever he'd been given was taking effect. Blinking, he couldn't quite get his vision to clear.

“Give me your hands,” The order echoed as if it were far away. Passively, he held his hands out and couldn't even process it as the cuffs were undone. “Now, just relax.”

He blacked out before he heard anything else.

 

Who knows how long he slept. When he awoke, he was face down in Darius bed, hands chained together, underneath him. His back however, felt like an intense sunburn, itching and painful.

“Unfortunately, all he could do this time was the outline. The color will be next session,” An icy touch of something sticky hit his back. Garen hissed despite himself, the itch fading slightly but not the pain. “I'll give you something for the pain. It looks good though.”

“What looks good?” His words were slightly slurred.

“Your tattoo.”

“My what?” Demacians did not, in general, get tattoos. They were frowned upon severely, even ones that were the most modest and small. His _entire_ back hurt.

“I don't want anyone to be confused about where your loyalties lie.”

“You didn't-” Garen couldn't process this, all his rage boiling inside him. The medicine hadn't completely left his body, but it didn't mean he wouldn't try. He was trying to get up; trying to in some way fight this. Everything felt faraway still though, body still heavy and unresponsive.

“I got you a gift.”

Tired and uninterested anyway, Garen slowly turned his eyes, trying to see what Darius had.

A shimmering hunk of metal was in Darius' hands. Garen squinted at it, not able to tell what it was.

“Do they not have these in Demacia?” Darius was legitimately smiling. “It's a butt-plug.” He turned it to let Garen see the shining blue stone set into the flared hilt. “It'll help you get more used to how you'll be treated from now on.”

Unable to do more than just watch, Garen saw Darius pop open the lube once more, pouring some over the metal object.

“Ahn-” He groaned against the pressure as Darius slid it inside him. It sat there, heavy presence just resting on his prostate as he laid on his stomach. Garen shuddered against himself.

“You look good this way,” Darius put a finger at the spot just above his ass. “When the medicine wears off, I'll have some fun with you. But for now, rest more. I'll be back in a few hours.”

 

There wasn't much rest to be had, the pain of his back and the constant weight at his prostate keeping him in a shallow sleep. Still, when Darius returned, he quirked at the sound.

He had brought dinner.

“Eat.”

Food turned his stomach, but his will to live was always a strong presence in his mind. After all, if he were to ever have the opportunity to escape, he'd need some strength. The taste was overwhelming however, most of the dishes either too spicy or too salty for Garen to want to eat much. At about half the tray, he pushed it away.

“That's what the guards had reported to me, you know. That you weren't eating everything you were served,” Darius pointed down to it. “Finish it.”

Frowning, Garen tried a few more bites. His stomach revolted. “I can't,” Garen replied flatly.

“Yes, you can. Eat it.”

“It tastes awful.”

Darius laughed darkly, “As if I give a damn. Eat the rest of it.”

When Garen continued to not touch any of it, Darius grew angry. With a fistful of his hair, Darius shoved a handful of food to his face. Wincing at the odd angle, Garen tried to turn away; Darius smeared it across his face. “Eat it, Garen. Eat or I will parade you down the halls on your knees.”

Opening his mouth, he made no complaint as Darius shoved food into his mouth. His eyes were rife with anger, but Garen swallowed what he was force-fed. When the tray was finished, Darius tugged at his collar, dragging him towards the bathroom. Stumbling and trying to keep up with him, Garen was made to follow.

At the sink, Darius turned on the water, snatched Garen by the hair and shoved him under the water. Surprised, Garen ended up with a great deal of water up his nose and in his mouth. The onslaught didn't stop until he was shouting into the water, needing air. It turned off and Darius wiped his face off with a towel brusquely.

He made the mistake of glancing into the mirror.

His reflection horrified him. It was clear he had lost weight, muscle tone not as defined in many places. Bright blue eyes were dull, black-lined and puffy; the lack of sleep was so evident, hair a mess and in need of a haircut. The worst however, was the first glimpse of the tattoo.

The shine of his skin, red and raised on his sides was his first indicator. Garen could see the beginning of thick black lines. By now he'd forgotten Darius was here at all, twisting his body to try and see it.

It was the Noxus' emblem.

Nothing stopped the wail that began in the back of Garen's throat that rose to a loud howl. He was spurred to action now, hands trying to reach his back; the chains were too short. The anger turned to Darius now, Garen lunging forward in an attempt to attack him. As he rushed forward, Darius stepped to the side, punching into his gut. The second blow was with both of Darius' hands from above.

“You're in no shape to fight right now, Crownguard.”

Still enraged though, he clambered to his feet quickly, using the chain to slap Darius in the face. Blood oozed from the strike and Darius' demeanor darkened.

“You're going to regret that.”

The next series of blows happened so fast, Garen would never be able to tell exactly what happened after. Darius caught him in the chin with one fist, then the other. Those two blows were followed with two more into his stomach and Garen folded. A boot smashed into his cheek and then the world went dark.

 

When he next awoke, it was to a bucket of cold water being dumped over his head. He was on his feet, arms chained above his head, legs spread and chained away. It was cold and there was a slight breeze; Garen realized he was naked and outside. Having battled so often, he could feel his body feeding him the inventory of his injuries. Likely a black eye and two bruised ribs; maybe one of them broken.

There wasn't much more time to reflect as Darius gripped his chin and looked him in the eye.

“I hope you'll only need this lesson once, Garen.”

Garen shuddered, the look in Darius' eyes the most frightening he'd yet seen.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it's a special side show!” Draven's voice was loud and echoing. Garen's eyes trailed up from the ground to recognize the stadium around him. Humiliation built up in him, body jerking, as if he could in some way cover himself. “The head of the Dauntless Vanguard, the Might of Demacia, Garen Crownguard, is here for all to admire today. Let's see how much he can handle, shall we?”

Horrified, Garen realized he was going to be in the middle of one of Draven's shows. Darius stood nearby, fingers at his ass, fingering the flared hilt of the butt-plug. Watching the first prisoner to be slaughtered, Garen was grateful that no blood flew their way; he had the decency to look away. The butt-plug was pulled free and Garen gasped as it was jerked loose.

“Don't close your eyes again,” A finger replaced the plug. Garen was wide-eyed and horrified, Darius arching up, rubbing his prostate inside. What was worse, was that his body reacted, writhing against his bonds.

A frightened Demacian soldier was pushed out of the gates; he ran without the order, bolting forward. He was surprised to see Garen and it slowed him down, Draven's axes cutting right through his shoulder blades. Falling and screaming, Draven ran forward and hacked him to bits. Garen could hear Darius' chuckle, but his eyes never left the gore of his ally.

Five more Demacians were let out, all running in different directions. It was here that one ran towards Garen and the warm spray of blood splattered across his face.

Garen had killed before, had felt blood on his face while adrenaline thrummed in his veins. But this was not a fight, this was not a war; this was a butcher toying with his meat.

Disgust welled within him, despair and terror as he watched his countrymen be mowed down in front of him. Darius kept moving his finger inside.

Draven sauntered over to Garen, pressing the flat of one of his axes against his cheek. The cold metal was slimy with carnage.

“Want more?”

His voice had long since died, eyes wild and desperate.

“Show him more,” Darius called out, adding a finger. Garen gasped and Draven laughed.

“You heard him! Send out more!”

Ten more Demacians emerged, their voices of terror, the gargling noises of their blood in their mouths. Garen knew he was drenched in gore by now.

“Enough,” Garen whispered.

“What was that?” Darius questioned, leaning in.

“E-enough. Please. Enough.”

“You'll not disobey me again?”

“No, Darius.”

Two fingers were removed from inside him and Darius slapped his ass with the same hand. Strutting away, three more people sentenced were killed before a handful of Noxian soldiers took Garen away.

 

The shower was a nightmare, blood pooling at his feet, a guard shouting at him to hurry up. Shaking, he washed his body, scrubbing harshly at what he could reach. A guard placed new salve on his back and tied a new sash at his waist.

This one was red.

Another person helped him shave, cut his hair.

Back in Darius' room, Darius was calmly reading a book. But he smiled when Garen entered. Both guards nodded in deference to Darius and left quietly.

Garen stood there in silence, emotionally empty.

“Let this be your lowest point, Garen,” Darius whispered, setting his book aside. “Behave from now on.”

“I'll behave,” Garen replied; he closed his eyes as Darius approached him. When Darius pressed their lips together, he opened his mouth and Darius slid his tongue inside.

When it broke off, Darius looked to Garen; “You're welcome to participate.” Lips were pressed to his again, and this time, Garen let his tongue feel Darius'. They were soon making out, Darius calmly undoing the sash. It pooled at his feet, and Garen did not jerk away when Darius gripped him, stroking slowly.

He let go. He shut off all the parts of him that were appalled by this. Garen could literally feel his mind closing down on the hell of the past two months, trying to shut out the screaming from merely hours earlier. Every voice had blended in his mind down to the sound of Jarvan calling for him...

Jarvan's handsome eyes below him, the few times he'd let go of all the walls he'd built for his best friend. How little time they'd gotten together...

Everything snapped within him, and Garen not only kissed Darius back, he pressed against him. The change in Darius changed the atmosphere of the entire room.

Shoving him into the bed, Darius kissed and nipped down his neck, licking the still notable bruises around his collar. Garen moaned, didn't even bother to fight his voice.

Darius fucked him hard and rough, relentless in every drive. Below him, Garen pleaded and groaned, hands unable to stroke himself easily with his wrists cuffed together. He managed anyway, Darius voice demanding, “Don't come before I tell you to.”

“Agh, please-” Garen keened, body arching into the thrusts.

When Darius came, he held himself inside Garen, riding out the orgasm fully. Without removing himself, he gazed down to Garen. Sweating, hand still working at his cock, Garen's eyes held no focus.

“Look at me.”

Hazy blue eyes met his.

“Say my name.”

“D-Darius,” Garen breathed out, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Come.”

There was silence a moment as he first hit his climax, but then he was screaming out his pleasure. As he folded up into it, Darius caught him in a kiss. Garen accepted it, returning it full force. When it ended, Garen fell into the bed, gasping and panting, Darius finally pulling out.

“Give me your hands.”

Holding them out to Darius, Garen was granted the rights to have them separate. It wasn't like he could reach behind his back still, but it was more mobility than he'd had in a while.

“Roll over.”

Again he obeyed. Cold salve touched his back once more.

Then Darius was beside him in bed, looking to his face. “Just as I said, fully trainable.”

Closing his eyes, Garen refused to meet his gaze. That night he dreamed of Jarvan, training with him on the field. They just talked while he spent time in Demacia peacefully.

For the first time in his life, he woke up crying.

Luckily, Darius did not stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someday maybe, I'll post all the fanfiction I have written. In the meantime, here's this. As per my usual, leaving it marked complete.


	3. Chapter 3

The war paced on without Garen's knowledge of anything that happened. Jarvan had made it back to Demacia, but the trek took him more than two months to complete. By the time Garen would know of his safety, his mind would be so broken, he wouldn't care.

Because Garen's life began to focus more and more on what was directly in front of him; and that was Darius, commanding him, controlling him and keeping him alive.

For his good behavior, he'd been awarded small liberties. His hands remained chained, but not at the wrists together. The metal collar had since been replaced with a softer black leather one; the tag in gold expressing Darius' ownership. Showers were a regular occurrence, as was the right to shave.

Though sometimes, Darius would shave him instead, having him sit still as that blade worked around his face. He knew it was a silent threat; that blade always lingered a bit too long at his throat.

The tattoo was finished and Garen was not even drugged while the artist finished out the color.

Sex was a usual activity, one Garen expected like clockwork. Most mornings, the demands were simple; oral until Darius' got off, Garen not allowed to touch himself. Usually, the gym's activities came next, Garen escorted by a small group of Noxian soldiers. Before being caught, he'd read while he waited for Darius to come back to the room. All that was around the room was stories of Noxian conquests, so eventually Garen was as knowledgeable of how Noxus saw its past as Darius was. The books were removed when it was discovered he was reading them. His punishment had been two days in an actual jail cell, no food, no light. When Darius came to get him, Garen apologized profusely for his bad behavior. Darius fucked him there in the hallway, the guards of the prison laughing at him and his pleading cries.

At nights, the schedule dictated sex; anything Darius wanted.

And if he wanted Garen to not finish, that was that. No amount of begging or pleading would convince Darius otherwise.

Eventually, his whole life revolved around Darius and what he needed. Most days, he didn't think of anything else.

“Get up,” Darius demanded after a particularly rough round of sex. Everything hurt, but Garen did as he was told. Stumbling to his feet, Garen waited for his next order. “Get dressed. You're attending a meeting with me.”

“Do you not want me to wash first?” Cum and lube were sliding down his leg.

Darius' hand cracked across his cheek, “Don't question me.”

“I'm sorry, Darius,” Garen moved to find his wrap amongst the clothing on the floor. Tying it in its usual manner, Garen once more waited to be told what to do next.

“No, tie it to where it's shorter in the back.”

Undoing it, Garen stood somewhat confused as to how to make it as Darius asked. In his debate, Darius snatched it from his hands.

“Like this,” The length was significant in the front now and very short in the back, Darius also clicked his wrists together.

Garen hated this, frowning at having his wrists once more restricted. “Have I been bad?”

Chuckling, Darius shook his head, “No, but today is a different case. Do not speak to anyone but me, do you understand?”

“Yes, Darius.”

Marching down the hall, Garen worked hard to ignore the sticky feeling between his cheeks, the discomfort of it all making him walk a bit wider than his natural gait.

At the meeting, Garen stood behind and beside Darius as still as a statue. Across the table was another high ranking general with a man dressed quite similarly to Garen behind him. Some part of his mind let him know this was not a Demacian soldier. For some reason he couldn't think of the relevancy of such a thought.

As the meeting wound down, the general surveyed Garen from across the table.

“Do you rent him out?”

“You can't afford him.”

“Looks like you could use some money to clean him up.”

“Looks like you could should use your money to feed your pet. He looks starved,” Darius scooted his chair back, rising to his feet. Gripping the excess chains between his hands, Darius tossed Garen over the table. He folded, startled, but Darius spread his legs and ran a hand between his cheeks. “I'll give you a little taste of what you're missing, though.”

A finger was shoved inside Garen, another quickly followed. Frantically, Garen dug his nails into the table, moaning at his master's touches. The general stood now, fury making his face red.

“I have disapproved from the beginning of you keeping this Demacian, but this is the last straw, I will be-”

“Demacian? Look at his back,” Darius returned, not removing his fingers.

Rage-filled eyes looked down to the fully-healed, completed Noxian emblem on Garen's back. Now the man shook with anger; his pet moved ever so slightly and the Noxian's fist connected with the poor sod's face without a second thought. Watching him fall, Garen trembled slightly; he hoped he would maintain his value longer than he knew most pets did.

He'd heard the wails of dying pets before and he'd do _anything_ to remain in Darius' good graces.

A handful of his hair brought him promptly back to the present, Darius tugging him backwards. “Swain knows of him and has long since cleared my ownership of him. Take your complaints to anyone you like. But he will be mine until the day he dies.”

Growling, the man drug his pet from the room as he left. The rest of the table looked to Darius, some in envy or pride, a very few in disgust.

“Well, gentlemen, thank you for your time today,” Darius continued with his finger in Garen's ass. “Meeting's finished. Unless you want to watch, you're welcome to go on your way.”

Roughly a minute passed, a few of the generals leaving, but a significant number staying. Laughing, Darius unzipped his trousers, freeing his dick from his boxers. Removing his fingers, he quickly replaced them with his cock, slamming into Garen hard and fast, giving him no time to adjust. Crying out and scrambling for some kind of hold, Garen at least tried to keep his genitals from hitting the table as well.

With a grunt, Darius came, grabbing Garen's collar from behind, jerking him up to choke him. But he kept pulling, until Garen was arching his back upwards, coming to basically stand. He was still deprived of air though, making a sound of distress.

Darius let go and slid from inside Garen, who choked in a quick breath. “Afternoon, gentlemen,” And he reached to grab the chains at Garen's wrist, leading him back to his quarters.

All Garen cared about was the warm shower he was granted for his “excellent performance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses. Other than sometimes I still think about fics, haha.


	4. Chapter 4

“I have a surprise for you tonight.”  
  
Garen looked to Darius as he entered, but said nothing. The weight of the butt-plug was still sitting against his prostate, having been inserted this morning by Darius with no further word. It had been more than two weeks since he'd last been allowed to get off, his cock quick to harden at even the suggestion of release.

A long time before now, he'd tried to jerk off while Darius was away, but had gotten caught. He'd been left chained by his hands facing a wall for three days, Darius fucking him morning and night but never allowing him anything more. When he was released, Darius introduced him to a penis cage, preventing him from even getting erect without Darius around to unlock it. The sheer frustration of the weeks that followed remained prevalent in his mind when he thought to disobey Darius in sex. Even if the had orgasm he'd had after being released was so hard that he'd forgot to breath, falling in a gasping mess to the bed after.

The cage was reintroduced every now and then when Darius was feeling particularly sadistic, but Garen tried hard to not inspire this.

“But first, do you want to know how the war is going?”

“What war?” Garen frowned; he'd been here for a long time, unable to remember when he'd even stopped counting the days. There were dreams he had sometimes about another life, but that's what it had all truly begun to feel like; a dream. Something that hadn't actually happened.

Darius grinned darkly, straightening. “The war Noxus is fighting against Demacia. The war that ended up with you stuck here. Or have you truly forgotten?” He kept the dark look as he approached, Garen almost drawing back at the aggression. “It's your one year anniversary, Garen. Did you know that?”

Gripping Garen's jaw, Darius pulled himself close to Garen, jerking his head to keep him looking at him. “When did you stop counting the days? When did you start accepting this as all you could have?” Darius pressed a kiss to Garen's lips. “Was it after Jarvan left? Was it after you realized it would be in your best interest to stay here passively?”

“What happened to your fight?” There was pressure at his jaw now, and Garen finally began to turn his head, trying to escape the grasp. “I see glimpses every now and then of it. When you glare at me sometimes before I fuck you, or when you try to push your luck by touching yourself when I'm not around. Sometimes, I miss it Garen. It was fun beating you into submission.”

That's when he recognized the threat here; Darius was beginning to find Garen boring.

And he found some fight, forcing his face from Darius grasp and pressing his lips to Darius' own. In a move that would either be suicide or the moment to save his own life, he shoved Darius backwards, knocking him off balance and onto his back. He could hardly remember what a fight felt like, but it was amazing what his body remembered for him. Straddling Darius, he looked down feeling a strange streak of accomplishment.

Darius eyes were dark, fist swinging to punch Garen when something in him triggered to let him know to block. Managing to do so, he caught Darius' wrist, shoving his hand back and away as he once more kissed him.

“You want fight? I can give you fight,” Garen murmured against his lips, sitting back.

Then Darius caught on to what was going on and let out a deep laugh, before catching Garen across the chin with his left hook. “Want to know the surprise now, Garen?”

Shaking off the blow, Garen brought his eyes back to Darius' face, watching him carefully.

“You're going to get to finally orgasm tonight,” His hand cupped over Garen's cock through the sash. Even now it was all he got to wear, Darius having never offered him anything nicer. He might have felt bitter about it, since he'd seen better dressed pets, but he'd currently outlived all that he'd ever met, so he didn't bother with the emotion.

Darius squeezed just slightly, “Publicly.”

Other than the one time at Darius' meeting, Garen had not been paraded around in public very often. And even at the meeting, he hadn't gotten off, so the embarrassment had been minimal.

Caressing his cheek in a mockery of a kind gesture, Darius continued. “We found out Jarvan made it home and we'd like him to see what he left behind.”

There was a jolt of electricity through his nerves at that name and once more, he couldn't fully place why. To worry about anything other than either pleasing Darius or just staying alive seemed hardly worth the effort. Something was different about that name.

“You won't be able to see him, which I think is a shame. But if you'd like, I can tell you what he'll think when he sees it.”

He drew back not wanting to hear this now for some reason he couldn't quite pin down.

Darius caught his arm, holding him in place with a fearsome grip. “He'll probably be shocked at first, after all, he knows I'm not one for exhibitionism. That's my brother's signature. But I don't mind showing off my pet.”

“I've already chosen the toys you'll use. I can only imagine his face of indignation at how you're being treated. But more so, to see your face while you pleasure yourself. How sick he'll feel knowing that someone else is touching you, that he will never have the chance at you again.”

Forcing Garen to lay on top of him, Darius whispered in his ear, “Because you're my bitch now, Garen.”

Something was going on, making him tremble, making him shake and want to argue. Garen tried to draw back again, but Darius held him by the back of the neck, kissing him fiercely. The fight before had been mostly for play, but he really wanted to fight now, his stomach flip-flopping angrily.

“Angry, Garen? Finally remembering again?”

“I've done as you asked. I've done...” His hand throbbed and he looked down to the mark there; he'd betrayed his country to protect Jarvan. What more did he have to give? Why was Darius trying to find something left in him when he'd already fallen so far?

Catching what he was looking at, Darius found himself laughing once more. “I'm letting you off the hook tonight. I'm just going to jerk it onto your face and then let you go to sleep. Because tomorrow is a big day and I'd like you to face it well-rested.” Shoving Garen back into a seated position, he stood, unzipping his pants in a quick rush. Hard from the play and the thought of humiliating Garen, he grabbed Garen's hair, tilting his face back as he stroked himself above him. Garen's eyes were narrow, some of that old fire burning low in them once more.

The image was enough for Darius, splattering his ejaculate across Garen's face. Those blue eyes had shut when he came, Darius a bit upset to be deprived seeing his expression. “Wash your face and go to bed,” He growled, not wanting to hit him more than he already had. If at all possible, he wanted Garen to look near perfect, the only marks being the hickeys already in place from their earlier activities and the light bruising that was sure to come from their small fight.

Stumbling up, Garen washed his face in the sink, still so confused as to why he was upset. His dreams more than reminded him, Jarvan screaming his name as he was dragged away echoing in his mind at first light.

 

Before the scheduled time, Garen was cleaned from head to toe by attendants, his face shaved, the rest of his body hair either shaved or trimmed. In preparation, they lathered his whole body in a lotion that kind of made his skin glisten, Garen being asked to remove the butt-plug by himself. He did, not really appreciating the audience, but with a shudder, he realized that soon there would be far more than this handful of people watching. Pulling it loose with a small gasp, he handed it to the person with their hands out to take it.

There was no sash he was given to cover up with when they finished. Garen looked around for it when one of them told him to get moving. When one of the larger guys shoved him, he moved, debating briefly on walking with his hands over his dick.

Then he saw Darius standing in the hall, watching him walk, and he straightened; Darius had long since corrected him when he tried to shy away. The smile he was granted meant his decision was the right one.

“I will give you three toys at the beginning. You will use them as I tell you to, and nothing further. I don't care what you look at, but you are not to close your eyes, do you understand?”

“Yes, Darius.”

“Whatever I command you to do, do so without questioning me. If you aren't sure, just make your best guess. I'll correct you if I need to.”

By now his heart was racing, the hallway seeming longer and more narrow than it should have. Darius took his hand and it was shockingly grounding, his whole mind coming back to a focus. It wasn't a kind gesture, he recognized on some level; the only reason it had happened at all was to keep him from passing out. At the end was a bright light, something feeling more like a stage than a bedroom. There was a blanket of sorts set out that Darius led Garen to, gesturing him to sit.

He did as ordered.

From a wooden box, Darius pulled out three toys; anal beads, a thin vibrating dildo, and a rather large studded dildo.

“Hands and knees.”

Garen did as requested, his ass facing Darius as he knew was the typical request. Handing him a bottle of lube, Darius smiled, “Prep yourself.”

As he'd been taught, a gentle touch was not to be tolerated, so Garen coated his fingers in lube, sliding two in with little ceremony. Gasping, he worked his fingers in and out, biting his lip to concentrate; it wasn't easy to stay on his knees like this. He much preferred prepping while on his back, propped up by pillows. But it was never about what he preferred and he knew that now. After a bit, he added more lube, making sure his ass was nice and slick, assuming it was for Darius.

“Put the anal beads in.”

Removing his fingers, he lifted the toy, sliding it between his two cheeks, beginning to press one bead in at a time. The first bead was particularly large, easily as wide as his or Darius' cock. Pushing it in, Garen bit his lip, the lube making it slide in with a pop. By the fifth, Garen was breathing hard, his body starting to respond to the pressure of the toy inside him. He would have never said it was one of his favorite toys, but his body betrayed him, making him shake some as he worked. At the last bead, only the loop that served as the end was left. Darius toyed with that loop, twisting the toy inside Garen. Groaning, Garen tried to not let his eyes drift closed; it was hard when it felt so good.

“You're already hard?” Darius voice helped bring him back. He hadn't been told he could get hard, but he had yet to master stopping that response. Pulling back, one of the beads popped out, Garen faltering on his hands and knees. “Stay up, Garen.”

Gasping, Garen fought the shake in his arms and how desperately he wanted to touch himself. Darius pressed the bead back in, before dragging the strand in and out, Garen moaning and shuddering to the movements. When he tired of it, he pushed all the beads back in slowly, before commanding Garen once more.

“Pull it out, quickly.”

Threading a finger through the loop, Garen jerked it free, crying out at how harsh the sensation was. Darius squeezed his ass, spreading him wide before telling him to roll over.

On his back, he could see the eyes of the crowd; he hadn't noticed them before. But now that his eyes had adjusted to the bright lights, he could see their smiles and sneers, hear the murmur of their voices. His heart rate jumped up until Darius shoved the dildo into his hand.

“Use it,” He opened the lube and dumped more all over Garen's hands and the toy. When he'd finished with that, Garen spread his legs and pressed it inside.

Garen let out a whimper, the width an adjustment he couldn't say he appreciated. The ridges and bumps on it though were incredibly sensual, his voice coming out in pants as he carefully pulled it in and out. Soon he was picking up a pace with it, his other hand gripping into his thigh, knuckles almost white.

His cock was leaking, eyes burning from the sweat at his brow. It was torture, how this dildo could rub across his prostate on each thrust, coupled with the lack of attention on his cock. Though he wasn't particularly listening, his voice was needy little cries, until finally he looked to Darius, mouthing “please.” He knew better than to actually say the word; that could be counted as disobedience. Ever so slowly, Darius shook his head back and forth, telling him no.

With a whining cry he continued, nails digging into his own thigh, harsh enough to bring blood.

“Stop.”

And he stopped everything, immediately releasing his grip; the dildo was still deep inside him. Fingering the base, Darius pushed it up some, smiling when Garen gave a shout, before tugging it loose.

“What say we give the whore what he wants, eh?”

The crowd was a mixed call of cheers and jeers, Darius turning back to Garen. “That didn't sound very convincing to me, now did it?”

Garen looked to Darius desperately, mouth falling open before snapping shut; he'd been told not to question. That probably meant he shouldn't beg either.

“Did you want something? You can ask them nicely,” Darius pointed out to the audience, Garen following his finger. The words dried in his throat, looking back to Darius immediately. “If you can't ask them, then you can't have anything.” He placed the vibrating dildo into Garen's hands, knowing it was the toy that drove him the most crazy. “Turn it on,” Darius commanded, Garen setting on its lowest setting. “All the way,” Was the correction, Garen trying to ignore how his breath hitched even when it was just in his hands. This type of toy just did all kinds of things to his body and they both knew it. “Put it in, Garen.”

Sliding it inside, Garen cried out, eyes squeezing closed without thought. Huffing and groaning, he opened his eyes, cock straining against his stomach. He was so hard and desperate he thought he might break right then and there.

“Please?” Garen asked once, looking to Darius.

“Ask them,” Darius pointed back out into the dark crowd.

“Please let me come, please,” He asked the darkness, able to hear the laughter that followed his request.

“Fuck him!” Was the first shout that reached his ears, Darius straight face tugging at a smug smile at the reply. Soon the whole crowd was chanting for it, Darius laughing.

“I can't deny their requests. Turn to the side.”

Scrambling to obey, Garen faced one wall, before Darius straddled his face, unzipping his pants to pull out his dick. The second it was in his face, Garen put his lips around it, hoping this would be enough to grant him permission to finish.

The crowd's cheering was all but a roar now, Garen doing everything in his power to pleasure Darius' cock. In reply, Darius grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging him back and forth with Garen's own movements. With a small gasp, Darius came in his mouth, but no order was given for Garen to orgasm as well.

Swallowing, he looked up to Darius and his smug smile. “Beg for it,” He whispered.

“Please, gods, Darius, please let me come. Please,” Garen's voice choked in a barely contained sob, the ache in his dick almost unbearable. His eyes were watering by now, his whole body shuddering in need. “Please, I'll do anything, please.”

“You may jerk off.”

Grabbing his cock, Garen stroked hard and fast, coming in a shout of pleasure as he did, ejaculating all across his chest and abs. Gasping and straining, he waited for the order to remove the dildo, but it didn't come. Grabbing his chin, Darius tilted his head upwards.

“He's my bitch now. Look at what you gave us, Jarvan. Do you wish you could have him back?”

Shuddering, Garen moved to stand as Darius tugged his chin, recognizing the meaning in this action. Once he was fully up, Darius turned him around.

“We own him, body and mind. Demacia burns and you left your best general behind enemy lines. I can't say I'm not grateful. I've clearly enjoyed him a great deal.”

Garen didn't know who Darius was taunting, but it twisted a knife into his stomach, making him sad for reasons he couldn't place. It felt like something was breaking, the last thread of hope withering away. He shivered, and it wasn't just because the vibe was still inside him, pressed against his prostate. Finally, Darius pulled the toy free, dropping it to the floor.

“March.” And Garen did, leaving the brightly lit room for the far darker hall. For some reason he could hardly breath, emotion tightening in his chest. Darius only laughed at him, pushing him forward.

At Darius' room, he did as ordered while Darius fucked him. “You can sleep now, but I have other things to do. I'll be back in the morning,” He was informed when Darius exited the shower.

And for some reason, he laid in the bed for a long time shaking from a humiliation and sadness that he couldn't place the source for. His back itched as if it were a new tattoo once more, but he resisted scratching it, having been chided for that before. Digging his nails in at his shoulders, he drug down his arms, only hard enough to leave red lines, nothing more.

Darius would not tolerate if he truly hurt himself.

But the pain helped. The pain helped in a way he didn't understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Sometimes I wonder how pet Garen is doing and then this all happens. Maybe I should try to post something less dark in the future. Oh well, you guys seem to like this one haha. Comments/Kudos are always appreciated. Thank you guys for reading. You're all awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> Am I posting this? Yes, I'm posting this. I let a friend talk me into it, so here it is o.o;


End file.
